


Who needs Personal Space anyway?

by Sociallyawkwardwriter



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, MetaMoro, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 02:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14823527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sociallyawkwardwriter/pseuds/Sociallyawkwardwriter
Summary: The eve of the Eurovision finale is like a rollercoaster for the two Italian singers... where will this ride take them?





	Who needs Personal Space anyway?

**Author's Note:**

> No harm intended. This is my own work. Not beta-ed, not a native English speaker. Feel free to point out mistakes.

They were both nervous, of course, they were. They had the dubious honor of being the last act to perform during the live show of the grand final and Fabrizio just knew that Ermal would be a nervous wreck. He took a deep breath. Not that he would be a big help at the moment. He tried to hide it, delaying everything until the last possible minute, but the fact was that he was nearly shitting his pants. His tongue darted out to hastily lick over his too dry lips. Damn, he needed more water. And still 30 minutes more to go.

He absentmindedly grabbed for the small plastic bottle someone had handed to him and swallowed the cool liquid, emptying it in one desperate gulp. From where he was standing, he could make out Ermal’s silhouette and he couldn’t help the small smile appearing on his face. The other man was clearly fidgeting, his hands not staying still for even one second. Fabrizio had to shake his head. Ermal was the last person, who needed to be nervous before a performance, even one as big as the Eurovision final. He was meticulously prepared as always, from his look to his voice, everything was perfect. Fabrizio took a deep breath. There was no way anything could go wrong, as long as Ermal was by his side. He absentmindedly scratched his neck. That thought even kind of surprised himself. But at the same time, if he were to think about it more deeply, it was true, had somehow always been true, since they started performing together. “Huh”, he mumbled. “That’s weird.”

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a strange woman appeared in front of him, blabbering excitedly in some language he didn’t understand. Panic started to rise up in him, he felt his heart squeeze painfully, until a warm hand found its place on his lower back, as naturally as breathing. “Hey, can we help you?” Her eyes darted towards Ermal’s face and Fabrizio just knew that he flashed her one of his dazzling smiles as her expression became just that bit softer, just one bit gentler. “I was wondering if he wanted some more water.” Ermal’s smile got even bigger. “Nah, we’re fine”, he replied. She nodded wordlessly and ducked away, but not before Fabrizio could see the red hue colouring her cheeks. He looked at the other man out of the corner of his eye and worriedly noticed the tense look on his face. “Are you okay?” Ermal turned to him, his eyebrow arched in surprise. “I wanted to ask you the same thing.”

Fabrizio opened his mouth, but couldn’t reply, one of the stagehands already urgently waving in their direction, his face turned into that stressed mask, all of them seemed to wear when it came to the real thing. Ermal shortly patted his back, before turning to the stagehand, his long, elegant fingers tangling with the fine chords of his earbuds. Fabrizio caught himself staring and shook his head stubbornly. This show was affecting him in much more ways than he thought. Ermal looked back at him with a cheeky smirk. “You need a crutch, old man?” Fabrizio gazed at him with fond exasperation, while trying to suppress the urge to wipe the sweat from his face and, in turn, ruining his makeup. He shook his head, trying to get back in the moment. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

In the blink of an eye, Ermal’s expression changed, the smile dropped into a frown and Fabrizio felt inexplicably guilty for that. Without much thought he gave Ermal one last pat on the back, before taking a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.” The doors closed behind them, there was no going back now. His heart was thumping so hard, he was afraid it would jump right out of his chest. It felt like he was walking on clouds and Ermal’s presence in front of him was the only thing tethering him to the ground. Another breath and Ermal was so close now that he could smell his spicy aftershave. It was a comfortable smell, a smell he had become familiar with during the last few months and it made this whole situation a bit less surreal.

Only a few more steps separated them from the stage, when they stopped. “C’mere.” It was nothing more than a whisper, not like Fabrizio needed the words to understand what Ermal wanted. It was always a bit like coming home, when his arms closed around that warm body, becoming one even if it was just for a short, precious moment. He smiled when he felt some of the tension leaving the other man. It hit him then. That there would never be another moment like this. That he would never be able to forget these feelings. He gulped, trying to keep his emotions at bay. Not now, he chanted in his head. There’s time for your emotional breakdown later. They parted and Fabrizio could see the excitement slowly overruling the nervousness in Ermal’s features. He was right. Everything would be alright, as long as Ermal was with him. A small smile returned to his face as their eyes met. “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

After their performance, it was as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders. Of course, everything went perfectly without a hitch, as expected. They did everything they could, the decision was out of their hands now and the only thing they actually could do was wait. Fabrizio felt relaxed for the first time in weeks, maybe months. He was proud of himself, of them, of what they achieved. He found that it didn’t matter so much, what place they would get or if they would even win this. They had a message and they managed to spread that message across Europe. For him, that was enough. For Ermal not so much. He could feel the anxiety radiating off the other man, he was sitting right next to him as usual, their knees occasionally bumping into another. He had to try really hard to hide the smile that was threatening to appear on his face. He was just so happy and it was actually kind of… well, cute to see Ermal like that.

Of course, that feeling disappeared altogether, as soon as they started to announce the results of the jury voting. He could feel Ermal tensing and he knew that his eyes, just like his own, were darting over the screen, where they announced the Ukrainian results. He felt something in him freeze. So maybe he wasn’t as relaxed about the ranking as he would have liked to think. With every country, every voting result coming in, Ermal turned quieter, until his movements had completely ceased. They did their job, smiled and waved at the camera when they received their twelve points from Albania.

During the break that followed, Fabrizio didn’t even attempt to speak with Ermal. He wouldn’t know what to say anyway. The world around them was clapping and cheering, but Fabrizio could only think about that one time in their early beginnings when Ermal had talked to him about their project. “I want the people to feel something”, he had said then with a beautiful smile on his face. “I want to move them and to make them think.” He had looked so enthusiastic, so powerful while saying that and that was when Fabrizio had decided to fully invest himself in the project, just so that the man with the boyish smile would continue to look like that. As soon as they announced the end of the jury voting, he felt some of the tension leaving him. His teeth hurt because he had clenched them so tightly.

Ermal’s pose had changed, from the stiff tension to a slump and Fabrizio wasn’t sure which one made him sadder. Something welled up in him then, a fierce protectiveness that he usually only associated with his children. He tried to get Ermal’s attention, but to no avail, the other man staring stubbornly in front of him without seeing anything. That picture, right there, made his heartache. If it were only on him, he would make sure that Ermal would never look like this again. That face was supposed to smile, be that in joy or mischief. Probably more of the latter though. He had never expected to feel so powerless, like in this moment. Desperate to do something, he grabbed the other man’s knee, trying to console him. He could imagine the thoughts that were running through his head at that moment, the feelings of failure, of unfairness, because they were running through his own head as well. He leaned over trying to get Ermal to notice him, but the other man was too focused on something only he could see. Fabrizio was so close now; his lips were lightly touching the other man’s earlobe as he whispered: “Never mind. They don’t recognize good music when it hits them.” His words didn’t have the desired effect though; he felt Ermal’s body tense up again beside him. Fabrizio sighed, slumping back into the sofa, leaving Ermal the space he clearly needed. It would be difficult for them to say the least, if the public voting would bring in the same results. Disappointed he swept his hand over his face; fuck the makeup, really. Wouldn’t do him any good now.

When the hostesses started explaining the system for the public vote, he felt himself tense up again as well. He raised his head to sent one last prayer, practically begging for somehow having touched as many people as possible with their song. He didn’t know how much he had missed their body contact until Ermal grabbed his hand, their hold a bit sweaty but also reassuring. And then it began. Australia, Portugal and Spain went first and with them, he could feel the breath returning to his lungs. At least, they weren’t last. His hand started to ache, Ermal’s pressing his so tightly. He couldn’t bear to let go even for a second. A small gasp unconsciously left his lips as Sweden was announced, the people of Europe had apparently spoken. With every further country, the tension ratcheted up a notch, but in contrast to earlier, this was a good tension. A very, very good tension. Fabrizio felt slightly giddy, his stomach jumping around wildly, every time that it was not Italy. He didn’t dare to hope just yet, his face still contorted into a tense expression.

They’ve already entered the Top 10 and they were still waiting for their call. Some of the jury favourites were out of the running, Austria having been left behind and most likely no longer a contender for the trophy. And then it was only Israel, Cyprus, Denmark, the Czech Republic and them. He could no longer suppress the smile that was splitting his face so wide, it made his cheeks hurt. He glanced at Ermal beside him, their hands still clasped tightly together and could see the same expression on his face. He didn’t think he could be happier than in that moment. When they were announced third, he didn’t really know whether he wanted to cry or laugh. There was only one thing he wanted to do, needed to do. The warm body pressed against his tightly, Fabrizio could feel the energy running through him; he swore he could feel every single muscle of the other man vibrating with happiness. He didn’t know what to feel. It felt like an end and a beginning at the same time and it was so beautiful that he could have cried. He pressed closer and took one last whiff of that intoxicating smell, before leaning back and grinning at Ermal like an idiot, the other man returning it with a mad grin of his own. They had some celebrating to do tonight.

* * *

 

Ermal pushed open the door to Fabrizio’s room, as he so often did, without knocking and let himself fall on the soft hotel bed with an exasperated huff. Fabrizio didn’t even pretend to be surprised by his entrance. He had known that this would happen before they went home. However, he had expected it to happen when they were not as drunk on success and red wine. And maybe after an hour or twenty of proper sleep. He waited for Ermal to do start swearing, to talk shit about the jury, to do… something, but he just laid there, staring at the white ceiling, his right leg impatiently moving up and down. Fabrizio took another sip from his red wine; he really could get used to the Portuguese flavour. He closed his eyes and let the heavy taste swirl around in his mouth.

When he opened his eyes again, he noticed Ermal looking at him and when their eyes met, Ermal started make a grabbing motion towards his wine glass. “Not as long as you’re lying down.” The only response he received where some weird chicken noises. He couldn’t help the fond smile that appeared on his face. “You’re bitter about that?” Ermal looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You’re not?” Fabrizio shrugged his shoulders, staring blankly at the waves of red in his glass. “Could have been worse.” “How?” Fabrizio huffed a laugh. “You’re being mean.” “Nope”, replied Ermal with a cheeky grin on his face, his eyes closed as the alcohol and the soft bed started to relax his body. “You know me, just being honest.” Fabrizio’s smile turned soft, as he saw his friend lying there, his gorgeous hair fanned out over the cream-colored sheets.

“Hey, Bizio?” Fabrizio took another gulp to swallow down the feelings inside of him, before he hummed in answer. “Why do you think they didn’t like us?” Fabrizio nearly choked on his wine. It wasn’t often that Ermal showed this vulnerable side to him. That was probably why it hurt so much when he did. He was surprised at the sudden rage that burned in his stomach, rage towards people he had never even met in his life. With a clink, he sat down his glass on the small table in front of him and slowly moved towards the bed. It creaked when he sat down, his fingers automatically tangled within dark locks. “What are you talking about? The people loved us!” “But ¬̶ “ “No buts!”, Fabrizio interrupted him. Ermal opened his eyes wide in surprise, a silent gasp escaping his lips. “We did what we could and the people of Europe loved us. It was just some…” He stopped, his eyes wandered pleadingly to the wall above. “Just some untalented assholes that didn’t like us.”

He felt the bed move under him, then Ermal’s long fingers gently patting against his cheek. “It’s okay, you know. Somehow. We should get our revenge though.” Fabrizio frowned at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ermal just shrugged in response, the movement looking clumsy in his current position. “Maybe we should try again next year.” His tongue darted out, licking over his lips. His eyes moved unfocused around the room. “And maybe I don’t want this to end.” Fabrizio felt his pulse skyrocket, his mind a rumbling mess of senseless thoughts and confused hopes. “What, this?” Ermal looked at him with his eyebrows raised. “You know what I’m talking about.” Fabrizio gulped, his mouth dry. “I’m… I’m not sure.” The other man rolled his eyes impatiently, before grabbing Fabrizio’s neck. “Well, I was talking about this.” The soft lips that pressed against his shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but they did. He wasn’t proud of the noise that was pressed out of his throat and he was pretty sure, Ermal would mock him for this until they were old and grey, but he actually couldn’t care less at this precise moment, when something in him, something that must have been misplaced for a long time, finally clicked and found its spot. He was out of breath when Ermal finally let him go, his head spinning so that he couldn’t grasp one clear thought. Ermal’s eyes, for one fracture of a second, ghosted over his face hesitantly, searching for something, Fabrizio wasn’t sure of. They seemed to find it though, as the uncertainty left his face, only to be replaced by a cheeky smile. “Clear enough for you?” Fabrizio rolled his eyes and decided that the best way to shut him up, was to stick his tongue down his throat. He really had this romantic shit down to a tee.


End file.
